


Forgiveness

by typhe



Category: Valdemar Series - Mercedes Lackey
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Getting Together, Hurt/Comfort, LHM, M/M, Role Reversal, guilt trips
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-13
Updated: 2014-01-13
Packaged: 2018-01-08 13:31:15
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,084
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1133225
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/typhe/pseuds/typhe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU/canon divergence.  Vanyel's worst fears have come true, and for Stefen's sake he has to end their friendship.</p><p>(Stef disagrees.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Forgiveness

**Author's Note:**

> Written while we were all thinking of alternate ways for Van/Stef to get together - I don't think this canon divergence requires much more introduction, but some reversal of roles has occurred.

The hertasi scuttled away, and Vanyel cursed himself silently. He hadn't meant to antagonise them, and he swore to apologise later - but by now he owed a lot of apologies, and he couldn't abide the thought of letting a stranger attend to Stefen's comfort. By the same token, he couldn't ask anyone else to keep watch. He was tired, so tired he was half-desperate to assent to Moondance's command that he curl up beside Stefen and sleep, but he _couldn't_. His fear kept him awake, heart rattling in his ears, his mind frantically stalking the Vale's perimeter, eyes never leaving the young man in Moondance's bed, feeling a thread of relief to see him draw each slow, shallow breath. He felt sounds beyond the walls, minds and movement, nothing worthy of distraction. Nothing mattered except knowing that Stef was safe.

A long hitch in Stef's breath drove him too frantic to keep his distance, and he reached a hand to Stefen's throat, feeling his pulse, ghosting fingers over his lips to feel the air. _He's alive. He's alive, he's getting stronger, he's_ staying _alive._ He cradled Stef's face in his hands, trying to believe it. _You're alive, and I carried you here, and I called you back to me._ He let go, feeling the words he'd said the night before scratching at his mind - _you're too young, it's not safe, I won't risk you._ Etched deeper were the words he hadn't said.

He couldn't forgive himself for this. Not until he saw Stef whole, alive, and far away from him.

He satisfied himself with the Vale's shielding, first by inches and then by tired faith; Starwind had ordered him not to be troubled over their safety here, and Vanyel had disobeyed him only from deep agitation. His Wingbrothers and Wingsisters deserved more trust - but what harm might he call on them just by being near them? Like Stef - Vanyel shook his head, trying to fight off his clutching fears. He'd seen more than enough people hurt - he'd seen enough people _die_ , but he couldn't shake off the shock of seeing Stefen lying still with the leech-blade feeding at his shoulder. Or the feel of Stef's body in his arms, paper-pale and drained cold.

And now he'd done all he could - brought Stefen to K'Treva, holding him as Yfandes carried them through Savil's Gate. He'd begged Moondance to show him how to heal this. And he'd called, called out from his heart with feelings he should never have allowed to foment, feelings that left his bones wracked and his mind defeated.

Perhaps now, Stefen would understand why they should stay well apart. _If he's a lick of sense he'll never want to be near me again -_ and Vanyel felt himself bow below the burden of that thought. _Bear it I must,_ he told himself, over and over. _Whatever Stef says. It might have been easier if I'd never met him_ \- but that idea wrenched painfully at his mind, and he wished he'd never thought it.

He wasn't sure which was more difficult to contemplate - their inevitable parting, or Starwind's last instruction before leaving them alone: _"Rest with him, and think of what you gave to him and how."_ Spent mage energy, he replenished from the node beneath the Vale; beyond that, he had nothing left to think _with_. He watched instead; felt the rhythm of Stefen's sleep, remembered feeling hazily half-real amid frightening dreams in a bed very alike to this, two Vales and a lifetime ago. Moondance had taken to sleeping with Starwind in the Speaker's ekele after their son was born, but of old habit still kept this sanctuary below to retreat to during storms. 

Lacking the strength to pace, Vanyel sat on the floor close to Stefen and sang a little, trailing off mid-note at shifts in inner weather. What was he _doing?_ Trying to make amends? Say goodbye? He'd proved himself worse than no protection, only a magnet for danger. But with or without Starwind's words, he couldn't leave Stefen's side.

He _couldn't._

"I - I hate to be a cliche, but where in hells am I?"

Vanyel started at the dry grate of Stefen's voice, and he reached out to still him - "Don't move - you're safe, your wound's healing, just keep still. We're in K'Treva Vale," he added, half-afterthought. "Savil Gated us here. It was the only place we could go to find Healers who knew how to save you."

Stefen blinked in the green-tinged light that filtered down through the canopy of Moondance's bed - his eyes seemed huge and luminous, his face bled pale, and Van ached at how flimsy and fragile he seemed. "Save me from wha'? I remember he - threw _something_ at your mother and I shoved her out of the way? My - my arm, Van -"

 _Oh gods, he's terrified of wrecking an arm, he told me._ Vanyel quickly replied, "Your shoulder's going to heal completely, no fear - the wound wasn't deep enough to do any real damage. You just need rest - you were stabbed by a leech-blade, and it wasn't primed to you but it drained a lot of your energy before the Tayledras could get it out of you." The garbled explanation clearly didn't mean much to Stefen, and he stared blankly at Van and twitched and shivered. "Are you in pain?" Van asked, guiltily.

Stef rolled his bleary eyes. "Who'd you think you're talking to? I can -" His head flopped against the pillow, and Vanyel gasped, feeling Stef's nascent energy-loop falter, collapsing with a flare of frustration. "I don't..."

 _You idiot, trying so damn hard to do things no one else can._ "Stef, stop pushing it. You've not got the energy left to suppress your own pain - that blade ate your reserves whole and started drawing the life from your blood. You're only conscious because we sent you enough of our energy to carry your mind back to us," and he hesitated, feeling like he were holding the edge of a puzzle-box. _What I gave to him._ "I should," and the connexion stuck beneath his mental fingertips, refusing to twist into place, "I'll ask Moondance if he has anything for the pain -"

"Don't go," Stef whispered. "Please." Van nodded, and reached to tap his hand, hardly thinking he had the power to reassure. "Y'did all that, for me? Y'went through a Gate and..."

And it had _hurt_ , enough that he swore he'd felt _Stef_ cringing in sympathy with his reaction, even unconscious. Vanyel had been terrified that the dagger would react violently to the Gate itself, and Savil had wasted precious time convincing him that this was less of a threat to Stef's life than the prospect of the Tayledras refusing to leave their lands to aid a stranger - which, in truth, was a near-certainty. "I did what I had to. It was my fault - I warned you what might happen because of me..."

And for a moment he thought Stef was choking, and he reached for him in panic before recognising the hoarse laughter for what it was. "No you didn't. Y'said I'd be _safe_ if you didn't - stay the night with me - so what do you call this?"

"Stef -"

"What's the point?" Stef had turned aside, his voiced muffled in Moondance's sheets. "They got me anyway. What're you going to do, send handwritten notes to all your enemies to tell them we're not lovers? Who even was he?"

"Stef! I don't know, I don't know who sent him, I'll find out just as soon as I can. But you're lucky to be alive -"

"What's the point," and it wasn't even a question any more. Vanyel felt hypersensitised, too close to Stef's emotions after hours of vigil; the words felt like dull serrated blades. "All I could - when it went black, all I could think was that I never got a chance to - to _show_ you how I feel. I'd never know what could," and he coughed around, as Vanyel could clearly see, tears.

He buried his face in his hands, no longer even trusting himself to look at Stefen, trying to blot out the empathic signals of pain and hurt. He hadn't the strength and his shields just weren't _working_ , as if the meld had somehow left him hopelessly permeable to Stef. " _No._ I told you, we _can't_ risk that - for both our sakes. I've been losing my mind over you and _I can't afford that_ , Valdemar can't afford that. Stef, I couldn't bear to lose you," he confessed.

"But you can bear never _having_ me? Can't lose what you never had?" Vanyel looked up and found Stef was staring at him in despair and disappointment, and then turned away again with a small grunt of pain. " _I_ can't bear this, Van. I thought I was _dying_ and all I could think was that it was t-too late to do this _right_ , and now you're telling me you just need me to leave you alone so you don't have t-to care about me any more. That's it, isn't it? It's not like you don't care - I _know_ you care. But you don't want to. An' if you wish you never _knew_ me so you wouldn't have to be seeing me get hurt -"

"No!" and that he could argue with, even knowing he was only taking Stef's bait. How had Stef guessed the thought had even crossed his mind? "Oh gods no. I _told_ you, I value our friendship and I value _you_. It's not a question of what I _want_ , Stef - I can't cut your life short by being close to you."

Stefen snorted. "Hang that. Never thought I was going to live long - not even _this_ long - streets kill people, Van. All I ever wanted was to find something worth having before it all came down on me. And damn me, I let myself think that was you. I never felt like this about anyone..." Stefen raised his head slowly, his face tear-stained and unsteady, too physically weak even hold Vanyel's gaze - and the desolation he radiated was too much too close to block out, felt too much like Vanyel's own pain, and his convictions felt pummelled by words and by memories whispering in the dark that _maybe it's better to have had someone and lost them_ \- "But it doesn't matter how I feel, does it? I can't argue you into bed with me. M'sorry." Stef sighed, rough and heavy, sagged down again, and Vanyel thought he could feel the Bard's heart breaking.

_And how._

He had led the meld without thinking, letting the spell's energy take the easiest route it found - and he'd been frightened enough that he hadn't even thought about how easy that connexion had been. And it was still there. And it had always been there. He wasn't shielding out that link between himself and Stefen because it was a lifebond.

And it was hurting, the _distance_ was hurting and if he didn't close it Stef would waste away as surely as he would were the dagger left to eat his flesh.

"Stef," Van slipped from his cushion and on to his knees beside Stefen, reaching for a hand clutched feebly around the edge of the sheet - when he took it, it felt cold and unresisting. "Oh gods, I didn't know what I was doing to you."

"I don't want your guilt," Stef said weakly, staring at their joining of hands as if he couldn't feel it at all. "I only wanted to show you I love you," and Van reached reckless arms about him, setting aside his shock and his pride and whatever hollow reasons he'd ever had to ignore this. Later, oh gods, he'd think on all of it later, but he couldn't deny Stef any longer.

"You knew I cared," he murmured, cradling Stef's pale, cold face again, barely warm against hands that shook with emotion. "I'm sorry. You were right - I wasn't seeing how _you_ felt. I love you too," and Stef's eyes alit, and the words didn't hurt as he'd feared they would. It had never hurt to tell Stef the things that were hard to say, had it? "Am I forgiven?" he asked.

The surprise cleared from Stef's face, leaving joy and mischief in its wake. "You might be, if you kiss me."

"You are an opportunistic _imp_ ," Van accused. A while later, amused, overwhelmed, he murmured again, "Am I forgiven?"

Stefen grunted. "I don't know. I have a few more requests."


End file.
